A Weasley Waltz with a Ghost
by MaskofFeathers127
Summary: Christmas at Hogwarts, dancing, laughter, the whole usual protocol. Louis Weasley, on the way back to Gryffindor tower, makes a chance encounter, which may just change the life (or death) or that person. (This is my first fic by the way - so I hope it's ok - any reviews would be greatly appreciated!)


Christmas at Hogwarts was full of light and laughter, drowning in a golden pool of Christmas spirit. There was a party in the Great Hall, specially decked for this time of year with garlands of holly, enchanted baubles singing a few christmas carols, mistletoe and hundreds of ivy green and crimson draperies - the winter air was full of music and laughter. A jazz band was playing, as ghosts waltzed across the room, carefully avoiding the mortals who were either dancing, or, who tired after a couple of songs had chosen to retire to the steps of the hall, chatting, a bottle of butterbeer in hand, as they spoke of their plans for the holiday.

Louis Weasley, having been made to waltz several times by a few giggly girls in his year, was now sitting by the staircase, watching his cousin, James, attempting to coax McGonnagle into a quick tango across the dance floor. She was not convinced. Her tartan hat falling in a lopsided manner, dark green robes splattered with gravy, glasses askew, hands on hips, face red with anger, she did not look impressed. James, oblivious as ever, carried on with his efforts - as Louis and Fred both watched their best friend break out into yet another rendition of 'Greensleeves'.

Sighing, Louis checked his watch, it was nearing midnight and he still had a three foot essay on Ancient Runes to hand in for the next day - Boxing Day. Why Professor Kirkland gave them work to do during the holidays, he would never understand. Getting up, he brushed a few breadcrumbs off his pale blue dress robes - a relic of the old Beauxbatons days - and skillfully avoiding being noticed by yet another horde of Hufflepuff girls - which would inevitably lead to some more dancing and pointless conversation - rather grudgingly made his way over to Gryffindor tower.

He wanted to spend as little time on the essay as was humanly possible - but do it properly. There was no way a Delacour boy, as Granpère Ambroise would put it, could ever get less than an O in any assignment. (Despite Louis' insisting that he was inherently Weasley each time that an E in potions popped up, that was the rule he was made to stick to). Mentally planning the various paragraphs in his head, his mind swimming with elfish words and runic spells, he tripped.

Tripping was not something Louis Weasley was used to. Normally, he simply glided gracefully, walking with the casual elegance he'd inherited from his mother. And now, he was wedged half way through a moving staircase, on the second floor, with his foot stuck in the stair. Poise and grace at its finest? Perhaps not. Cursing, he tried to ease his foot out of the step. It didn't work. Tucking at his robes and swearing loudly in french, he cursed the Hogwarts founders. Moving stairs? Disappearing steps? Who in Merlin's name had come up with that idea?!

'Are you alright?' came a voice.

Very mildly irritated and not bothering to look up, he snapped back - 'Do I look like I'm alright? Are you blind or something? Just - help me!'

'I can't.'

Who did this stupid girl think she was? Still tugging at the hem of his robes, gritting his teeth, mustering all the self control he had, he spoke calmly, or tried to. 'Ok. Fine. Would you _please_ help me?', though it was intended to be a question, the words came out more as a demand.

'I can't.'

Swearing again, he looked up. No one was there.

'It's not that I don't want to help you - it's just that I can't.'

Louis jerked his head around.

There was a girl standing, no hovering, right behind him. Her hair was dark, framing her rather thin face, her skin, pale, shone in the candle light and her fierce eyes bore into his from behind a pair of wire spectacles, she was wearing an old tattered school uniform and seemed almost translucent.

He swallowed. Then stuttered. Another stumble - how... _un-Delacourish. _

'I-I-I... I'm so sorry, I hadn't realised that you.. well you -.'

'Are you? Are you really? Sorry that you hadn't realised that I was _dead_?!' She spat out the last word, as though trying to get rid of a nasty taste in her mouth. She then let out a horrible wail of anguish. Louis almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She was being dramatic, he decided, nothing he hadn't seen already with two older sisters - though he did have to admit that he had been rude to her.

'No.' The girl stopped. Then peered back down at him.

'No?' she asked.

'No.' he stated., 'Well, I'm sorry I was rude to you - but that's about it. Now, I really would appreciate some help.'

'But I can't-'

'You're a ghost so your hands would just pass straight through my robes - I know. I - I just want you to tell me where exactly my foot is - so I can move. If you could go on the other side of the stai-'

'Move it to the left.' He did so. With one gigantic pull he managed to wedge his foot out, falling over in the process, tearing his dress robes and landing in a very inelegant heap at the bottom of the staircase. Missing one shoe, his blond hair in an even worse mess than Albus', he got up, grinning, brushing the dust off.

'Thank you M'lady now if-'

'What's your name?'

He frowned. 'Louis. Louis Weasley. And you are-?'

'Myrtle. Myrtle Smith.'

'Well then - thank you Myrtle Smith.'

Then Myrtle did something that Louis did not expect her to be able to do - she blushed. Staring at her long, translucent fingers, she murmured 'I suppose you should get going now.'

He nodded and was about to leave, when he suddenly realised something.

'This isn't the way to Gryffindor tower, is it?'

Myrtle shook her head.

'The moving staircases.' she said simply.

'I realised.' he replied drily, making his way away from the stairs, then stopped dead in his tracks.

'What in Merlin's name is _that_?' he said, staring in disgust at the tapestry in front of him.

'Barnabas the Barmy.' said Myrtle, drifting beside him.

'Wait - who?'

'Barnabas the Barmy, great wizard of the late seventeenth century, born in Surrey, sorted into Ravenclaw house.' she looked down at him with a knowing look, 'Don't ask me why though, the sorting hat is strange at times - well, our friend Barnabas here thought he could train norwegian mountain trolls to dance ballet. Needless to say - it didn't work out as planned.'

Louis stared at Myrtle, then at the tapestry, which he had somehow managed never to notice before, then back at Myrtle. And then he laughed.

'How do you know all of this? he asked, incredulous.

'Well - one has to do something to entertain oneself and though you people are all very funny to watch, it does get a little tedious at times. So I read, occasionally talk to some of the more senior ghosts, you know, that kind of thing. Contrary to popular belief, I don't just hang around my cubicle. I do have an eternity to wait for so why not? I know the name of every tapestry, painting, the history of every statue - I wander about. There's not that much to do really, apart from learn and occasionally eavesdrop. This is a school after all.' She peered back down at him, then at her fingers again.

'Every single painting?'

'Er. Yes.'

'But- but - that's amazing!'

Myrtle blushed again. 'I don't know what to do now though - I've learnt everything there is to learn about this castle. I have an eternity left and hardly anything to do.'

'An eternity?'

She nodded, 'Unless I move on.'

'Move on?'

'To the world beyond. Unless I... die properly.'

'Can't you?'

'It's not that simple.' she sighed. 'Normally us ghosts don't move on because we choose to stay and we choose to stay because we have... unfinished business. The problem is, after a year or two, you tend to forget what that unfinished business was.' She laughed timidly.

'Can you not remember what yours is?'

She shook her head.

'Oh.' he said. They stood there in silence for a moment, before Louis suddenly asked 'Do you remember what your last Christmas was like?'

Myrtle thought for a moment, 'It was here, at Hogwarts. And... there was a lot of dancing.'

'Dancing?'

'Yes. But... I didn't join in.'

'Why not?'

'I was too shy. And all of the other girls came from rich pureblood families. They all wore beautiful dress robes, whilst I... well - my parents were muggles and they couldn't afford new clothes - so dress robes, well... that was inconceivable. And no one would have asked me to dance anyway.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Well - I'm ugly.'

'What?'

'You heard me the first time. Besides, that's what they used to say to me all the time.'

'They... being?'

'The other students.'

'Oh.' Louis gazed at her for a while. She wore glasses, that was true and her uniform was tattered and worn out, but she was by no means ugly, if anything she was quite beautiful... She just needed a little confidence.

'Myrtle - has it ever occurred to you that they were probably just saying that out of jealousy or prejudice against your muggle heritage?'

Myrtle shrugged.

'I have an idea.', he said. 'This is the seventh floor, right?'

She nodded.

'If the lady would care to accompany me...' he said, bowing.

'Wh-What?'

A door had just appeared in the wall.

'The come and go room.' he said. 'Also known as the room of requirement. Bet you didn't know about that!' he winked. 'Come on! I'll show you!' Opening the door, she slid in, as did he.

They were outside. Or were they?

Tendrils of frost spiraled through the misty winter air, yet through the thick, albeit gradually parting clouds, one could still catch a glimpse of the dark night sky and shimmering stars.

Music drifted through the air. A waltz.

Louis examined his dress robes - they had mended and somehow turned a deep, midnight blue colour, as an intricate pattern of silver stars covered them.

Then he caught sight of her. She was wearing a silver dress, shining like the moon. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, her glasses were gone, revealing a pair of large honey brown eyes. Her skin was pale - but his hand did not pass through hers as he took it in his. She gasped. Then, leading her across the frozen landscape, they danced, twirling in the moonlight, flying though the darkened sky.

Dawn was creeping in as they sat on the top of a lost hill in the middle of the frosty landscape, now tinted with bright pinks, reds, and yellows. His cloak wrapped around her, Louis Weasley stared at the beautiful sleeping girl leaning against him.

'Thank you.' he heard her murmur.

'What ever for?'

'For reminding me... of what I needed to do.'

Louis looked down at her, through half closed eyelids. 'What do you mean?' he asked softly.

'This.' Smiling, she leant in and planted a soft kiss upon his lips.

* * *

Louis woke up in his dorm, his heart pounding and his head throbbing. Such a strange dream. What was- Sweet Merlin he hadn't completed his essay!

But... the dream. He checked his watch - it was mid-day already - how had he slept in so late?

Yawning, he made his way downstairs, greeted by an excited Lily,

'Louis! Louis! Guess what!?'

He raised an eyebrow, which his cousin took for a 'go on'.

'One of the ghosts has disappeared! McGonnagle just announced it and James said that-'

'Wait - are you sure?'

'You didn't let me finish!' she whined. 'James said that it-'

Louis didn't hear the rest.

'Who was it? Which one? Which ghost Lily? Tell me!' he asked in a blind panic.

'I-I- Moaning Myrtle I think.'

'She... She's gone?'

'Well, yeah, moved on I suppose. Hey- Louis. Louis- hey are you ok?'

'She's gone.' he said, sinking into a nearby armchair.

'Well, put it this way, at least she's happier now right? I mean, she's you know... Moved on.'

Louis blinked, staring at his thirteen year old cousin for half a second, before his face broke out into a small, sad, smile. 'Yes. At least she's happy now.'

* * *

**Hi! Thanks for reading! This is my first fic so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!**

**:)**


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